What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Very Personal Ads #91: secret panels everywhere
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.
I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!
Thing 1: close tabs!
Here’s what I want:
While I — astonishingly — don’t have any physical piles of doom at the moment, I seem to have replaced them with seventy seven thousand open Firefox tabs.
I’d like to start closing those doors, and figuring out what my new system is for this not to happen.
Ways this could work:
I can spend an hour or two watching myself mess around with this, to see what the patterns are.
And I can flail on it.
And I can talk it over with Cairene.
My commitment.
To be curious and loving: what purpose does this serve and how can I still get what I need?
To take lots of notes.
Thing 2:
Here’s what I want:
I’m working with the theme of being at home with money.
Since I’m a business savant, I’m actually really good at making money.
And I’ve been dangerously poor, so I know about getting through not having any money.
But just being comfortable with it. Being comfortable and at ease with having it. This needs more love and attention, as I learned this past week.
Ways this could work:
I can use Shiva Nata to deconstruct some of the old patterns and unquestioned assumptions.
The Stone Skipping questions can help me get clearer on what this new relationship with money might look and feel like.
I can talk to Slightly Future Me and find out what she knows about all this.
My commitment.
To remember that what I think is set in stone is not.
And that there are all kinds of things that I’m probably wrong about.
Thing 3: a hidden board.
Here’s what I want:
Oh I have no idea how to describe this.
You know how in movies sometimes there’s a character trying to dissect his past or uncover a conspiracy?
And there’s a hidden room or a picture that flips up to reveal a chart? Or a wall covered in scribbled notes, newsletter clippings and colored pushpins.
I want like that.
My office is sometimes a Strategy Room and sometimes a Wish Room, and I haven’t managed to figure out how to make those aspects work together.
I want a secret wall!
Ways this could work:
No idea.
I mean, I’m not even entirely sure what this ask is.
My commitment.
To look for the essence of my wish.
Is it about shelter? Secrecy? Privacy? Excitement? Planning? Structure?
I think it would be useful to talk to Metaphor Mouse and get more information on what exactly I’m yearning for.
Thing 4: to enjoy the glorrrious weather
Here’s what I want:
Every April, all I want to do is walk in the sunshine and smell all the lovely flowers and be carefree and delight in springtime.
And every April I have ridiculous amounts of work to do.
Until I finally start using the almanac section of the Book of Me, we are going to need to compromise.
Ways this could work:
I could just decide to test my hypothesis that really, truly experiencing springtime will do good things for my business in its own way.
And that if I have to delay some projects, then so be it.
I’m not sure if my fuzzball monsters will be into that, so this is going to have to involve a lot of dialogue with them.
My commitment.
To remember that my monsters and I share the same goal: to make sure that I am safe and cared for.
To remember that I always get my best ideas in the spring, so a little additional frolicking time is a good thing, not a selfish decision.
To be alive. To be here now.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted my energy back, and I actually did remember to take my iron. And did lots of walking. Improvement!
I asked for Dr Seuss books for the Playground, and a number of people offered to send some. Oh!
Then I was hoping to find the last couple people for the April Rally (Rally!), and I’m not actually sure if that happened or not because I disappeared this week and wasn’t at Drunk Pirate Council. I’ll have to check.
And there was an ask about building a Refueling Station for me. That’s something I’ve been really investigating this past week. No visible, tangible forward progress yet, but a bunch of internal stuff is moving.
I will keep asking for this one, and rephrase what it is that I’m looking for.
Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.
Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!
Stuff I’d rather not have:
The word “manifest”. To be told how I should be asking for things. To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given unsolicited advice.
Much love for your gwishes! So happy to have you doing this with me.
Friday Chicken #139: the best holes
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Let’s see.
It was kind of a disjointed week again.
The hard stuff
Coming down from vacation.
I was such an extreme sadface mouse.
Be glad you weren’t there for it.
Oh, hurt, bruised and semi-bashed.
This was the week of bruise.
Sliced my finger, slammed into every table and corner and wall in sight, and generally managed to hurt myself.
Clearly this calls for more sleep.
Grumble grumble grumble.
Oh, the giant scary tax number. How much stress other people are having about said number.
Money grumbles are the most annoying grumbles. And this would be so much easier to deal with it I weren’t getting derailed by my stuff coming up in reaction to other people’s stuff.
So. A lot to work on there.
Took a big risk and it hasn’t paid off yet.
This is exactly the type of thing that I normally find very exciting.
But right now it’s just another thing to worry about.
Nostalgia.
Triggered by discovering that two of my friends from Tel Aviv (who don’t know each other) took a photography course together. And one of my best friends there is now randomly friends with my cousin.
I miss living in a place where everyone knows everyone else.
I mean, I assume Portland is that place too, but that’s not what my life looks like now.
The good stuff
Epiphanies all over the place.
It’s all that mixing of levels in Shiva Nata.
Anyway, the realizations this week were big.
Lots of movement with things that didn’t want to move.
Inspired.
Most of the hard of this week was kind of related to having lost my excitement about something I’d previously been excited about, which is always kind of depressing.
But then I found it again! I found it!
The mojo. It is back. Yay.
Progress on the new website for the Playground.
Soon!
I can’t wait to have it ready for you.
I ran away for a while.
And this was good.
Not really a vacation. But a working-somewhere-else-for-a-few-days adventure.
Very productive and informative.
Happy Playground!
A marvelous package from Pat! Pat was at the February Rally (Rally!) and fell in love with the Playground, as does everyone who visits.
She sent the most adorable ever pirate monkey, and a bunch of spy glasses (for viewing and connecting with past you and slightly future you), and a book. As well as sweet little notes to me, Selma and the Playground.
Thank you, Pat! What a marvelous surprise.
And then Briana sent a gorgeous handmade cushion for my Wish Room. Briana!
So much happy.
Stuff I’m reading….
Madeleine’s wise and sweet piece on surviving adolescence.
I am halfway in love with 3eanuts.
And this got me through the week: Dear Monday!
And … playing live at the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
This week’s band is local. Very local.
Camellia Porthole
Check out their new album. And did you know? It’s really just one guy.
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day and a restful weekend-ing.
And a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.
p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — you can join in whenever (or not!) and it’s no big deal.
Setting it up.
Over the past few months I’ve been spending a huge portion of my time trying to set things up for Slightly Future Me so her day goes well and she feels cared for by me.
It’s a pretty interesting practice.
Last week I was on my vacation and things were going semi-disastrously. Nothing too big. Just a bunch of crappy, hard-to-take things.
So I sat down to figure out how I could make the next vacation more joy-filled and less challenging for Future Me. With six questions…
“What parts of now will turn out to be good for Slightly Future Me?”
The question.
Not that I have to appreciate all the things that are going wrong, because that would be annoying. I’m allowed to have my stuck.
Just: what’s the good — for her — that’s going to come out of all this hard right now?
The answer.
Oh, right.
I’m learning more specific things about creating ease. Setting things up to be more ease-filled for both now and next time.
Which means I’m also going to have to talk to the parts of me who are uncomfortable with ease.
This is the experience that forces me to clear out the resistance so I can get better at making things sweet for me-who-is-arriving.
“If I were the Fairy Godmother…?”
The question.
If I were the Fairy Godmother for someone like me, what would I give myself to make my Pirate Queen Holiday happen with more ease?
The answer.
A pack of cards. Transition cards.
Like the Stone Skipping cards you made for the rallygators to use at Rally (Rally!).* You can pull a card and it will give you a reminder or a ritual.
*Now available in the Playground Toy Shop. Awesome. Thank you, me-from-last-week.
And a page of important and relevant Book of You highlights. Maybe in Dropbox so you can pull it up on your phone.
A case for a razor, so that you never ever accidentally cut yourself again.
The tiniest, sweetest little first aid kit, like the one you have in the Galley at the Playground, just in case you do get a cut. Though not from the razor, because that isn’t happening.
“If I had a Fairy Godmother…?”
The question.
If I had a fairy godmother who thought of everything, what would she give me for this vacation?
You don’t need to know. It’s a creative writing exercise. Invent!
The answer.
A small jewelry bag.
A case for your sunglasses.
A bedside altar. I mean, it’s not an altar. But it’s a box that turns into a tray, and it has all these little reminders of your you-ness, and you keep it by the bed when you’re away.
Checklists! Pre- and Post. Maybe printed on a card?
Something that’s like sovereignty boots, but smaller. Sovereignty stockings?
“If this were my boss and I was helping her…?”
The question.
Let’s say I worked for the CEO of a company. And I’m her fabulous Traveling Secretary. It’s my job to make her travels go smoothly and think of everything.
What thoughtful things do I pack for her so her vacation is nurturing and ease-filled?
The answer.
Little scissors in a tiny case.
Colored pencils.
A list of Useful Journaling Questions (like the exercise we’re doing right now?) that she can pick from.
Flannel handkerchiefs in a pretty case, like the ones we have at the Playground.
Interesting that just about everything I want/need falls in the category of things I already make sure my students have access to but never think to give to myself…
“If I were mentoring someone…?”
The question.
If I were mentoring someone and training her to eventually have my job and become the CEO, what information and gifts would I want her to have?
The answer.
Really good tweezers. In a little package. Dedicated travel ones. That cannot be forgotten no matter how forgetful she is.
(Not that she would be forgetful. But since this is the thing I always forget, it would be nice.)
The daily Hey Let’s Evaluate The Day question about what’s working and what we’re going to do differently next time.
A crisp and stylish CEO outfit to wear for checking into the hotel (always gets you a better room, and yet still I forget to show up in work drag).
Notes on why checklists maps, as I call them, are so important. Hint: it’s not just about not-reinventing-the-wheel.
And a designated Gwish Book for writing about her gwishes.
“What advice does Slightly Future Me have about this?”
The question.
Let’s ask me-in-the-future. What does she know? What’s her advice?
The answer.
Asking these questions right now is really important. It’s symbolically important.
How you travel reflects how you are in your business.
Each fix is setting up the future to have more literal and symbolic smoothness.
You need to be able to experience what it’s like to know/feel/trust that all doors open for you.
And until you’re at that point (it’s going to take a while), you need to set stuff up for yourself so you feel the smoothness.
You need to feel cared for so you can create. And so you can heal. Build these experiences of ease now so that you can believe in them.
Setting it up.
It’s kind of like being a football team. Or a roller derby pack. Only with versions of me playing all the roles.
Future Me is the striker. Yes, proper football that kind of football. And right now I’m making assists and setting things up so Eric Brunner can be this happy.
Future me is the jammer. And me right now is like Layla Smackdown, Smack Ya Sideways and Napalm Beth getting ready to do some damage so Sully Skullkicker can rack up the points.
Okay, maybe sports analogies… not the best. But that’s what’s on my mind.
Anyway, I’m making space for myself. And committing to making things good.
But not at the expense of me-right-now. Because that’s not what future me wants.
I’m taking care of myself now so me-to-come can be the kind of person who knows what that’s like. And I’m taking care of her so her world becomes all about being supported and loved.
And comment zen for today.
This is hard stuff. It’s a practice.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
You are more than welcome to think out loud about setting things up to be better for Slightly Future You.
Or about this thing we call ease, and why it can be such a painful and resistance-filled concept.
We let everyone have their own experience and we don’t give unsolicited advice. xox
Saving.
I’m recovering from my first encounter with the insanely insane number that is what I’m paying in taxes this year.
We knew it would be insane, of course, just not the sum of the insanity. After five years in a growing business, this was the first year as a corporation, first year with full time employees. All kinds of firsts.
So here I am. Thinking about numbers, and more specifically about my relationship with money and saving it.
Conflicted Wanting.
Whenever I think I want something and it’s not actually happening — or not happening as much as one would like it to be happening, I call on Metaphor Mouse.
Not because I need a new metaphor (though honestly, who doesn’t like a crisp new metaphor?), but because the act of metaphor-mousing always helps me destuckify and untangle.
I’ve been alive long enough to know that when most people say they want something, there’s a part of them invested in not wanting it.
This is what I call Conflicted Wanting.
I’ll tell you the truth. I didn’t want to do this.
I thought I didn’t need this exercise.
Obviously being able to save money is what I want more than anything, so why would I have to check for sneaky hidden negative associations with it?
But if I were working with a client or a student and this was their thing?
I’d pretty much assume Conflicted Wanting.
And then we’d get ready to find out what was going on. Sigh. Yes, of course we would. So what would we do?
We’d create an atmosphere of safety.
Since this is the land of here be monsters, safety is the most important thing.
Safety first!
We’d call on some serious Negotiators, just to have them around. Just in case.
We would make safe rooms. Possibly also hide in a blanket fort.
And tune in to the essence of the object of desire. In this case: protection, comfort, support, kindness, stability, freedom.
We’d practice giving legitimacy.
It is not unusual to think you want something with all your heart and still have parts of you who resist it.
It is okay to want something and not want it at the same time.
We all self-sabotage like crazy. We all have residual doubt and experiences of pain that accompany desire. I remind myself: This is normal and human and nothing is wrong with me.
We’d ask curious, loving questions.
“Are there any potential negative consequences that I can imagine resulting from this thing that I want?”
“Who gets hurt if this happens?”
“Which parts of me are not on board with this?”
And then we’d talk to Metaphor Mouse.
What are my associations with the thing I think I want?
Saving money = ?
[+safety] [+support] [+trust] [+reassurance] [+possibility] [+preparing for future] [+kindness to Future Me] [+appreciation] [+sustainability]
And are there any negative associations with the thing I think I want?
Ahahahahahahaha. Why yes. Funny you should ask. I filled an entire page with them.
Among my negative associations that I hadn’t known about:
[+ball and chain]
[+grown ups are boring]
[+where’s the excitement?]
[+caution based on fearfulness]
[+it’s for people who don’t know how to be flexible]
Interesting.
What do I really want?
Well, I’m really drawn to the idea of savings as a buffer. I like the spaciousness that comes from having room to maneuver. That’s the flexibility thing again.
And I think I’ve just figured out where the stuck is. It’s a false rule that says you can live the way you want (using play and trust and love) or you can live by saving, but not both.
The truth is, maybe I can do both.
Is there resentment, guilt or shame related to my experience with saving?
Yes.
So now what?
Well, that’s where destuckification moves from initial investigation into ongoing process, right?
I walked myself through memories of different experiences, with help from the internal negotiators.
I talked to some monsters (particularly This Can Never Change and You Will Get Hurt No Matter What), with the help of the Monster Manual and Coloring Book.
And I used Metaphor Mouse to discover that I don’t particularly like the phrase “having a cushion” but I do really like force fields.
So my practice of “saving” is becoming a practice of strengthening my force field and collecting sparklepoints, which sounds like way more fun.
And now I’m going to keep taking notes, and using the Book of Me to remind me that I’m in the process.
And comment zen for today…
Wow. So today I pretty much managed to cover all the things that are hard to talk about (money, pain, fear, monsters, destuckification…).
We’re going to need extra safety today.
Here’s what I don’t want:
I do not want to be told what to do, what to try or how to feel. I do not want advice. Or reassurances. Or “you should be grateful that your business is successful.” None of that is what I need right now.
Here’s what I would love:
Other situations of Conflicted Wanting that are familiar to you.
A sandwich. I would love a sandwich right now. I’m vegetarian and don’t eat sugar, if that helps. Virtual Sandwiches — fake band of the week! It’s just one guy!
And if you’re feeling especially brave and up to asking yourself some of the questions that I asked, go for it. That would be cool.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We give people room to have their own experience without trying to fix it for them.
That’s it. Love love love. This stuff is hard.
There’s No Way This Can End Well.
I have a sadness story.
It’s a story that lives inside of my consciousness, and it’s all about how everything ends in tears and regret.
This story is so familiar that sometimes I think it is me.
When I pull away from it so we can see each other, I can’t always tell what it is. It’s kind of a fuzzball monster, in the sense that it has the power to totally derail me. And it’s kind of a past version of me who is in pain.
And it’s also its own thing. Something else. Anyway, yesterday we talked.
Sadness Story is sad.
Sadness Story: There’s no way this situation can end well. It can only end badly, with everyone involved being miserable. And whatever you do, it will be really bad.
Me: Oh, that does sound challenging. No wonder I’ve been feeling so anxious about things.
Sadness Story: [sighs a sigh of sadness.] It’s not going to be good.
Me: I’m feeling really relieved that you approached me to tell me your version of reality, because I’d been thinking that it was mine too. Now I can see that we are having an encounter, not sharing an experience.
Sadness Story: It’s not a version of reality, it’s just what is true.
Me: You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. It is your experience and what has always been true for you, and so in that sense it is pure truth.
Sadness Story: Yes.
Forever?
Me: So if that’s the only truth, what are my options?
Sadness Story: There are no options. You can either choose or not choose, but it’s bad. There will be tears and more tears and more tears.
Me: Forever?
Sadness Story: No. Not until next time. You’ll get over it, and then it will happen again, in some other slightly different but equally depressing and miserable form.
Me: So no matter what I do, I’m doomed to repeat it?
Sadness Story: Pretty much.
Me: Man, that’s rough. This must be why we don’t hang out. So tell me. Usually when I talk to monsters or distorted parts of my reality or internal narratives, there is something they want from me. Or something they don’t want me to do. But you don’t seem to be asking for anything.
Sadness Story: Nope. Just telling it like it is. All sadness all the time. Sorry!
Me: I don’t believe you. Tell me the real truth.
Sadness Story: Nope!
What’s true?
Me: Come on. You might as well tell me. It’s going to come out anyway. I’ll play the what’s true and what’s also true game. Or the ways that now is different than then.
Sadness Story: Yeah, I guess you will.
Me: No! Even better, I’ll use the tricks from the Monster Manual & Coloring Book and this will all be dissolved forever.
Sadness Story: As soon as you acknowledge my pain, I will vanish.
Me: Acknowledging your pain is also acknowledging mine, yes? And then the real truth will be there, under the distortion. Between the narrative.
Sadness Story: Yes.
Me: Okay.
Motivation and pain.
Me: I am so sorry that you have gone through these painful experiences. So much hard.
Sadness Story: No, it’s you who has been through these sad things. I just remind you about them so you won’t be surprised when it happens.
Me: I see. Your motivation is kindness. You want to spare me pain.
Sadness Story: Yes.
Me: And you also feel sad about that pain. I mean, it seems like you don’t feel frustrated about everything being sad: just sad about it. Sad and resigned. Is that right?
Sadness Story: What’s the point of being frustrated? That’s just how it is. Sadness. Everywhere.
Me: So your superpower is really about acceptance. You know about letting things be as they are. But then your superpower gets distorted into this vision of a world where nothing can ever change.
Sadness Story: Maybe.
Who would you be without your sadness?
Me: Who would you be without your sadness?
Sadness Story: Freedom.
Me: I see you.
Sadness Story: Okay.
Me: So. Legitimacy to the sadness….the sadness is allowed to exist. And legitimacy to freedom. I’m allowed to make choices based on the things I have learned from the sadness experiences. Things can move.
Sadness Story: Things can move. And if that is true — and it feels true, then I need to leave now. Goodbye.
Me: Whoah. That was fast.
Wait, who are you?
Narrator: Not really. When the sadness is allowed to exist, there is no sadness story. The sadness doesn’t get trapped. It says what it has to say and then it’s gone.
Me: There was a narrator?! There was a narrator and no one told me?
Narrator: I only do summaries. But as you deconstruct these versions of what-is-true, you will find the things that you know, and then you will need to sum them up for yourself. To put them into the Book of You for later. I’m just demonstrating what that looks like.
Me: That’s not weird at all.
And today’s comment zen in the blanket fort.
It’s hard to talk about sadness. And it can be really hard to separate enough from our pain that we can even interact with it. No worries. It takes time.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
If you want to talk to your sadness or talk about talking to your sadness or just sit with us and have a snack, it’s all welcome.
The only thing we don’t do is give each other unsolicited advice, because we’re trying to let people have space for their own experience. That’s it.
Love to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.